Sometimes I Forget to Love You Like I Should
by JannP
Summary: They'll face bigger problems than a bathroom schedule and he isn't willing to let this be a huge deal between them;he's pretty sure she'll agree but he's still gonna keep it simple and let her have a chance to say the same thing. Missing Finchel from 3X13


**A/N: **This has been brought to you by a tumblr prompt from **lolabridgetta** and the song **Sky **by **Joshua Radin**. My favorite is the version featuring Ingrid Michaelson. Also, brought to you courtesy of the awesome beta skills of **Jen **(**wants2beawriter**) who really is the Rachel to my Finn in many ways.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of this stuff. I just borrowed it because they keep leaving shit out.

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><p><strong>Sometimes I Forget To Love You Like I Should<strong>

It's not like it takes him that long to go to the bathroom; he probably stays in there reading about, like, sugar scrubs or something that he's not actually reading about, longer than he should. He's still not sure how it went from zero to about sixty in terms of couple fighting; and it happened in basically no time at all. They have made it through some major stuff this year already without fighting. They've talked, they've compromised, they've come together and come apart one at a time. They've made good choices, bad choices, hurt other people, hurt each other a little and yet… they haven't fought. He _knows_ they'll work it out; it's not like just because there was a tense moment about going to the bathroom that he's suddenly questioning everything. He just doesn't want to work it out with her dads listening downstairs. When they saw him coming downstairs, they totally did that thing people do when they want you to think they weren't talking about you. Like, legit, Mr. (Hiram) Berry was whistling under his breath and Finn thinks he might've left a scuff mark on the hardwood floor when he turned around to avoid being caught staring.

So anyway, he finally goes upstairs. Her dads must be watching a movie or something like they said since they aren't in the kitchen or anything when he goes through and he honestly wonders how long he put it off. She's gonna think he's totally disgusting and _really_ not wanna share a bathroom with him now. Thing is, he's always had to share one so he honestly didn't think about it. And even if it's what started the fight, it's _not_ the part that made him mad or hurt or whatever. Maybe a little of both.

It bugged him more when she was kind of just drifting as she talked about what they'd be doing in New York. He means, is it so much for him to ask that she not actually pause when it comes to that stuff? He hasn't given her much to go off of—he doesn't _have_ much to go off of by the way of actual like school/career/whatever plans. Everything he's planned has kinda just been taken away so he barely really even wants to plan on being there with her sometimes; he's comfortable just kind of going with it and not making plans since plans get ruined so easy. He also knows that isn't how she lives her life really and the mapping it out is something he kind of adores about her; he just wishes there was more in that map about him than a background role. He wishes he'd given her more to work with. He wishes he had more to give her to work with. That's all.

She's sitting at her computer when he walks in and he isn't gonna look over her shoulder or anything, but it's pretty clear from the slow rate of mouse clicks and the small sigh he hears that whatever it is she's doing isn't totally working the way she wanted it to. Her shoulders are slumped a little. When he closes the door behind him with a soft click, she tosses a quick glance over her shoulder that he's pretty sure doesn't actually connect with, like, his person. Right inside the door, he sees her hairbrush. He bends down and picks it up, then sets the brush and the Cosmo he (accidentally) borrowed down on the corner of her desk. He puts his hand on her shoulder and she's kinda tense so he squeezes, rubbing his thumb over her shoulder blade and then grinning to himself when she sighs. He knows now she isn't gonna make any sudden movements so he presses a light kiss to the top of her head and breathes in deep; he loves the smell of the stuff she uses to make her hair all shiny. He can't remember what it's called, just that it's the last thing she sprays on and it has this fruity smell that he just…it's part of the Rachel smell he loves. So he kisses her softly and breathes it in and, even though he wasn't that worked up after about three minutes away, he feels himself relax.

"I'm sorry, baby." He's not exactly pleading with her, but he's not so hurt anymore and he knows that really, they'll face bigger problems than a bathroom schedule and he isn't willing to let this be a huge deal between them; she'll agree but he's still gonna keep it simple and let her have a chance to say the same thing. When she doesn't shrug his hand away but instead rests hers on top of it, he knows he's right and honestly, they already are fine even without saying much.

She feels a little uneasy but more relieved when she hears him come in; she lifts her hand from the desktop to her shoulder and feels almost worse after he speaks. It's not his fault, not entirely at least. She knows that. And truthfully, there was a time when she wouldn't have been able to admit to herself, much less to him, that was the case. It's no longer that time, though. She isn't sure _when_ it became more important to apologize than to hold onto her pride, she only knows that it has become more important. And she could tell she hurt him a fair amount in their short, rapid exchange. She's most sorry for that part and that's what she's thinking of as she echoes his words.

"I'm sorry, too," she admits. She closes the browser window, which failed to shed any light on exactly what possibilities New York holds for Finn, and shuts down her computer. She closes the lid and then swivels in the chair a little, looking up at him as she stands. He normally towers over her, even though he tries not to, and it's a feeling magnified by the distance when she's sitting. She feels small and she hates it when she feels small. She feels a little better standing when she can see his eyes on her and she can tell from his expression he's not still angry. She didn't really believe he was to begin with, but he definitely isn't now. Even though it seems like four words – well, two if you'd like to be technical about it – have taken away most of the sting from their previous exchange, they both start talking at the same time.

"I don't think you're crazy, even if your nighttime ritual is long. You can add getting into bed with me if you want and—"

"I know you have things to accomplish and you're trying to put it all together, it's just that I haven't been part of that process and I haven't _asked_ to be, but of course I know there's more there for you—"

They stop at the same time and both smile, both breathe out in a way that sounds as though they're laughing, but they aren't. After they breathe out, then both breathe in and out again in synchrony. There's this pause that basically is just the silent part where everything is immediately better because they've both apologized and they're not fighting anymore. It's the moment where everything just goes back to normal.

"D'you still want to?" He finally asks. He's dropped his hand and now he takes hers in it, rubbing his thumb over knuckles and her engagement ring and she doesn't ever really want him to stop. She knows sleeping with her jewelry on is a terrible habit, but she can't bring herself to remove it, either. She doesn't want to take it off if she doesn't have to; and it may be silly, but even if she's taken it off to shower or apply lotion, she waits until she sees him again and asks him to put it back in its rightful place. She never wants it on her finger if he hasn't put it there and he's just smiled and said "sure" in this _voice_ every time she's ever asked.

"Want to what?" She asks. Sometimes he's perfectly random and although she normally understands exactly where he's coming from, she's found it's better to ask rather than to assume, just on the off-chance he's going to surprise her.

"Get into bed with me," he answers patiently, if not a little shyly, his voice no more than a low hum that she will never actually be able to deny anything. It goes straight through her and she wishes that she didn't feel as though her dads were downstairs listening to their every move and just waiting to hear them 'commence teenage lovemaking.'

"Of course I do," she responds, also a little shyly. He just tugs down the covers on what they have determined to be his side of the bed, smiling and his cheeks pinking up a little as he does it. She repeats the gesture on her side. They settle in, him behind her with his arms around her tightly. She likes it. They lay there for a minute longer than it took them to get all settled. "I'm really glad we kissed and made up," she starts, turning toward him to see his face out of the corner of her eye. She likes it when she turns her head and their noses almost touch; she likes that he's so close. He feels good behind her, so warm and solid. She's just extremely glad, not only that they kissed and made up, but also that he's there with here. "I mean… it is Valentine's Day after all."

"Mmhm," he agrees and she can hear the smile in his voice and feel his chin on her shoulder. She knows he tries hard not to dig his face into her, but he likes the contact. He likes being able to touch her wherever and however he can, all the time.

"This whole living together thing and being right on top of another, it's definitely a lot more challenging than I thought. It's like, real life and stuff."

"I know," he says and gives her a little squeeze; she's pretty sure it's exactly what he bargained for when he even asked her to marry him. He's had more time to get used to sharing space with new people—with Kurt, specifically—and she just needs to catch up. In this instance, he's perfectly comfortable taking only the space he needs. He's already been groomed to fit her standards of sharing a bathroom, before she's even fully developed them.

"…and I have to be honest, I was a little… afraid of what it would be like for us to really be married; now you know, I think we can do it right," she says, her voice fading to a whisper as she realizes how much she believes that now, just as the words leave her mouth. She can feel his heartbeat with its steady thumping against her back; he knew all this. He felt those things already. She's not used to being the one catching up but maybe… well, perhaps he did know exactly what he was getting them into when he proposed and he knew what she was really agreeing to when she said yes. It isn't that she went into it completely blindly, but she was more focused on the romantic aspects than the pragmatic aspects. She _does_ feel better about the daily details—especially when he agrees.

"I think we can," he says and he sounds so happy, but even as he holds her a little tighter, his fingertips tickling at her through as he reaffirms his grip, she doesn't feel anything about his steadiness change. He makes her more steady about this decision every day and it's to the point now that she not only wants it, but _needs_ it to happen. "Except for one thing…" he trails off and she can tell it's not a _bad_ thing. He's amused about something. "It's 7:15."

She laughs a little as they agree to join their friends at Breadstix; not that they didn't enjoy the 'big happy family' time, but they both really want to still be as normal as possible considering the adult realities they're dealing with at the same time. There's no reason for them not to enjoy the last of this time with their friends if they can, right?

And in spite of the intimacy involved, and the logistics they were just arguing about, they dress in front of each other pretty freely because, well, it isn't the first and definitely isn't the last time they will do so.

They've only loosely discussed possible marriage dates; since her dads have claimed to be on-board with everything, the dates they've discussed have been pushed back a little, further into the summer to accommodate time for planning. It isn't that she expects or even wants something extremely complex, but she's not necessarily in a huge rush. It seems contradictory, but it isn't. It would give them more time to work, to save, to plan; she's thinking now they might use that time for something a bit more important. "Finn?" She says as she emerges from her closet while he's doing up his belt.

He looks up from his waist and she loves the boyish charm of him caught off-guard but still basically dropping everything he's doing just to hear her speak. "Huh?"

"Maybe we should consider the possibility of scheduling the wedding sooner rather than later so we can adapt _before_ we move to the city; kind of take things one big change at a time?"

"Oh," he says, looking back down and finishing latching his belt. He doesn't sound surprised exactly, just as though he's giving the thought its due before he answers her. He reaches over to grab his tie where he'd set it on her bed (after he pulled the covers back into their properly 'made' position while she was pulling her dress on in the closet.) He loops the tie around his neck, tugging the collar back down over it before he looks at her again. "That's a good idea. When are you thinking? Like…maybe after Nationals or…"

He's playing with the ends of his tie and she knows he's trying to remember all the steps Kurt's taught him about tying a tie; he _can_ do it, but prefers the stolen moment of having her close while she does. So she steps over to him, taking the ends from his fingertips and beginning her work as she speaks. "Yes. I think May would be perfect."

"Me, too," he agrees. She settles his freshly-Windsor knotted tie on his chest and runs her hands over his chest. "We should probably tell your dads that before we leave so they can have a little time to get used to it while we're gone." He takes her hands off of him, but pulls them up to his mouth and kisses her. "And when we get done, I can just drop you off back here. I mean, it isn't that I don't want to stay here with you it's just…it's a little weird knowing they're right downstairs and…listening."

"It is kind of strange," she agrees, her eyes dancing over his face while he speaks. "And we have plenty of time."

"Definitely," he says. "We have basically all of it."

"We're only missing one thing," she breathes, her gaze focusing more on his lips.

"And what's that?"

"Well, when I said we kissed and made up, there is the tiny detail of _actually_ kissing and making up," she says, not missing the fact that his eyes drop to her mouth, too. There's a reason she hasn't stepped away to touch up her lipstick just yet.

"Yeah, we totally need to make it official then," he echoes before he presses his lips onto hers and for about the sixth time tonight, she does wish they were home alone for a little while. He wraps his arms around her even as he pulls his mouth away from the gentle kiss that still has her heart beating a little harder. His breathing isn't completely normal as she folds her lips together and licks the taste of him off her mouth while his forehead rests on hers and he smiles widely. "We set a date," he says and the excitement in his voice is palpable. She can feel it coursing through her own veins and she's a little addicted to the feeling.

"Yes we did," she says, her own smile spreading across her face as she finally pulls her eyes open and looks at him. She just loves him so much. "It's real."

"Yeah," he agrees. "I'm excited."

"Me, too." She drops her hands from his chest even though that's the _last_ thing she ever wants to do. "Give me a moment to finish getting ready and we'll leave."

"Yeah, okay," he says. She can feel him following her as she goes into her bathroom. She turns around with a grin on her face while he hovers in the doorway. "And just what do you think you're doing?"

His grin matches hers. "Well, I'm just gonna join you. My hair is all messed up," he says. "Is there some problem with us both being in the bathroom at the same time or something?"

She laughs and pushes him back just enough she can close the door; she can still hear him laughing through it and she realizes that there are some things she could _definitely_ get used to easily and the happy tones of his laughter, with her _all the time_, is right at the top of that list.


End file.
